The Fifth Column
by Labrys
Summary: Hermione is sent back in time after an accident with her Time-Turner. She meets and falls in love with the person she hates the most. AU [Complete]
1. A Sea Change

**Fifth Column  
****Prelude: A Sea Change**

The tired scrape of quill to parchment and the rustle of pages being turned ceased. Hermione sighed, and ran a hand through her thick hair. Not only was it eleven o'clock in the evening, but she had a big Potions test tomorrow. Sleep was the only thing on Hermione's mind, and she desperately wanted to crawl into her warm bed and snuggle her pillow close. Besides, she'd just read the same paragraph three times.

Struggling to stand up with her sore muscles, she slowly stretched. She'd realized early on in Hogwarts, that if you slumped long enough over a book, the pinching pain of strained muscle would slowly fade, and you could relatively read in comfort for hours at a time. 

She gathered her books, five of them to be exact, and all hundreds of pages long with thick covers. Hermione put her parchments and quills and other school related supplies into her book bag and slung it across her shoulders and heaved the heavy stack of tombs into her arms.

_It's a wonder I don't have bulging shoulder muscles. Who ever said book worms are weak?_

Hermione chuckled to herself and she left the library, absently pausing to juggling her books on one hand and wave the enchantment to lock the doors. Hermione felt as if there were a basilisk inside her head, slowly squeezing her brain matter together. She knew she should get some sleep, considering she put in more hours than any wizard she knew. Of course, that was complimentary of the time-turner.

But now, as a Seventh Year and Head Girl, Hermione found it hard even with the time-turner to keep up with all of her classes. They were all advance placement, the Professor's seemingly oblivious of her other classes and the amount of homework given in each. They'd give her assignments that Ron and Harry together would take three weeks to do, and expect them back in a week.

It was hard, now, considering Voldemort was still alive, breathing, and definitely gaining power. The Headmaster even deigned it proper that Care of Magical Creatures be brought inside the castle, despite Hagrid's knack for bringing dangerous creatures to class. Now they had to attend both Potions and Care of Magical Creatures in the dungeons.

In fact, it seemed that her Professors were so paranoid, they'd decided placing Aurors every where inside the castle, outside of every known passage and House entrance.

_As if those dunderheads could stop Voldemort or his Death Eaters if they wanted to._

Many of them, she suspected, were sleeping on the job.

Shaking her head to clear to fuzzy feeling of sleep deprivation from her head, she craned her neck around the books to better view the stairs she knew were there, just around that corner.

Just as she turned to corner, she ran into such a slacker. Literally. Gasping, and feeling the solid flesh her feet ran into, and knowing there was no space after them, except a flight of stairs, she felt panic rise in her throat in a lump of congealed vomit.

Hermione tried vainly to grasp the sleeping Aurors shoulders, but the books in her hands provided her with no options. She belatedly realized she should have dropped the books.

Than, it seemed time slowed as a horrifying revelation dawned on Hermione. Her time-turner. It was her last thought as she slammed face first into the sharp edges of the stairs, blinding pain swept her into it's embrace.

Murmurs slowly entered Hermione's throbbing head. Slow, distorted words. Bits of a whispered conversation.

Where did....her head...Glass?...is that possible...She doesn't look....do you know her?...Hogwarts robes...Head Girl?

Groaning, Hermione lifted a weak hand to her forehead, where she found the friction of cloth. Instantly, Hermione's eyes flew open, and she found a group of three people surrounding her bed, all of them looking at her in curiosity.

Glancing past them, she found herself in the infirmary, though it's walls seemed even starker than before. Startled, Hermione found that the usual clean, disinfected smell of the infirmary sheets smelled more like lavender and soap.

One of the men cleared their throat, and Hermione brought her wandering eyes back to them. Two of them looked deceptively familiar, the obvious medi-witch had light blonde hair, and bright blue eyes, she appeared fairly young. But familiar. Very, very familiar, even the expression of mild concern gracing her face was familiar.

Than, there was the other man. A deep shade of auburn hair adorned the mans head, and an equally shaded beard feel to his collar bone. Adorned on his nose was a pair of half-moon spectacles, but it what was behind them that jolted Hermione into realization. Sparkling, bright blue eyes.

_Dumbledore..._

Hermione managed to rasp out, surprised at her raw throat. The woman, who Hermione realized as she tsk-ed' was Madam Pomfrey, hurried to her side.

Now dear, there is no need to explain yourself at the moment. You must've taken a nasty fall somewhere, because you've split your forehead and, for the love of Circe, managed to lodge glass in your throat. Pomfrey tucked the sheets around Hermione tighter. Now, drink this. It'll help.

After swallowing the thick potion, Hermione found it hard to keep her eyes open, and soon she fell into a deep sleep, the blurred images of two men and a woman faded.

Hermione groggily opened her eyes, the thick curtain of sleep refusing to let more than a crack of light through.

Then, the familiar voices came again. Though this time, they seemed to be conversing about the next best thing to do about her.

I don't know where she came from, Armando, but I think it wise to keep her here. At least, until she's capable to telling us where she came from, and why she has Hogwarts robes.Of course, Poppy. I fully agree, and I am most curious about this girl's story.

Hermione managed to make a small noise in the back of her throat, which didn't feel like sand paper anymore, catching the attention of the two people.

Oh dear me, miss, how are you feeling? Pomfrey questioned, her quick footsteps quickly reaching Hermione's bedside.

Hermione mumbled, her head seemed to be spinning on it's own, a hundred miles an hour. Poppy tsk-ed' and than shoved a foul smelling potion under her nose.

This'll help, dear, don't mind the taste. Hermione nearly threw up her empty stomach as soon as the honey-like consistency of the potion hit her tongue.

_Don't mind the taste, she says._ Hermione thought bitterly.

There, there, dear. Poppy comforted, patting her back gently. Hermione managed a weak glare, but let her head fall back onto the pillows. Slowly her head stopped spinning, and Hermione could open her eyes without difficulty.

When she did, she saw a thin old man, who she deduced was Armando, from the previous conversation.

he spoke, his voice was a soft tenor, inviting and smooth. Hermione smiled.

Hermione Granger, she replied, propping herself up on her elbows. Where am I?

Though she knew the question, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

The Infirmary at Hogwarts, dear. Poppy responded instantly. Armando stepped forth.

_It must be Armando Dippet, the old Headmaster before Dumbledore. I can't of gone _that_ far into the I?_

Speaking of which, why do you have Hogwarts robes, bearing the mark of Head Girl, when we have our Head Girl already chosen. He seemed mildly confused, though more curiosity seeped forth. Hermione took a breath, she could only hope he believed her.

I'm from the future, sir. This didn't faze the man at all, in fact, he nodded as if it made perfect sense.

I see, and you must have been the Head Girl for your time. It wasn't a question, but Hermione nodded anyway. And a Gryffindor. Hmm, this is most intriguing, do go on. What happened?Well, I tripped over someone and fell down a flight of stairs, apparently my time-turner turned a bit too far. Hermione sighed, looking at the stark white of her sheets.

Armando asked, slightly confused. Hermione looked up, both Poppy and Dippet were looking at her with raised eyebrows. What exactly is that?You don't - Hermione stopped suddenly.

_Of course, you idiot, the time-turner hasn't been invented yet._

Um...it's something we have in the future, to go back into time. People don't normally go back years, it's used mainly for turning back the hours. Hermione mumbled, if they didn't have time-turners, how as she going to get home?

A sudden feeling of complete loss swept over Hermione, and the tears welled up in her eyes. Poppy patted her back comfortingly, though giving her an imploring look.

So, how far into the future are you from? Dippet questioned, tilting his head.

she replied, sniffing and wiping at her eyes. What year is this? Dippet replied, and Hermione whipped her head up so fast she nearly clipped Poppy's chin.

she breathed, and instantly, she paled. Tom Riddle. Voldemort. She would have to live with...with that monster. Her expression turned dark. Not only did she want to maul and destroy that bastard, but she wanted to humiliate him. Horribly.

_You can't _do _that, it disrupts time. Time is intricate, a web. You can't go messing around with it and create a paradox._

Yes I can, Hermione scoffed. _That bastard deserves it, I don't care if I create a paradox in the process, as long as he's killed before he can harm Harry or his family._

But what if killing Voldemort leads to Harry not even being born? Or Ron? Or you_?Remember that prophecy? Tom Riddle must live._

Defeated, Hermione seemed to deflate.

What are we going to do? Hermione asked, looking up in resignation.

Hermione looked around the Gryffindor common room, it was blessedly empty. The chairs were still the same, the portraits still the same. Even the carpet was the same. The entire set up of the room hadn't changed one bit in her time. Shuddering, she walked around the couch facing the fireplace, intent on sitting down, only to find another girl already curled up, reading a book.

Hermione uttered, taking a step back. The girl looked up in surprise, before smiling at her.

Hello, I'm glad you're okay. she said, straightening her legs to let Hermione sit down. She patted the empty space next to her. 

Hermione obliged.

I'm Thalia Bellona, I found you. Thalia said, as if that deserved some sort of an award. Who are you?Her - Hermione stopped, she couldn't be doing things like that. Dippet and Dumbledore and herself had conversed for the rest of the day, completing her fake life, fake name, and fake transfer school. Arline Speck.It's very nice to meet you, Arline. Thalia thrust out her hand.

Thalia was a rather pretty girl, though she had small features which made her seem childlike. Her light brown hair made her impossibly black, or very dark brown, eyes stand out, making them seem even larger. She his a high forehead and her eyes were side wide, she was slim, and had thin lips.

You too, Thalia. Hermione responded quietly, taking the offered hand. Thalia smiled broadly.

Oh, you can call me Leah, everyone else does. Well, my friends do, anyway. Thalia smiled again and turned back to her books. Do you like books?

_If only Harry and Ron could hear her... _The thought was sobering, even as a small smile lilted upon her face.

I couldn't live without them, she answered truthfully. Thalia seemed delighted.

That's wonderful, most of my friends are either boys, and they don't like to read much other than Quidditch related, or girls who are to involved in their makeup and pretty dresses. And boys. Thalia laughed, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh with her. I like muggle poetry, myself, how about you?Anything I can get my hands on really, though I rarely...indulge myself by reading poetry or novels. Thalia looked at her with such pity that Hermione wasn't sure that her nose hadn't fallen off.

That's depressing, I don't know what I'd do without my Edgar Allen Poe and Walt Whitman. Thalia sighed, as if reminiscing in old times, but than her smile reappeared. You can borrow this, if you like, I've already read it ten times.

She offered the book to Hermione, who was reluctant to take it, but did so anyway. She might as well, Thalia seemed like a nice enough person.

I'm off to bed, so you tomorrow, Arline. And Thalia was gone, up the stairs into the dormitory. It was just then that Hermione realized Thalia hadn't once questioned Hermione about her fall, or why she appeared out of nowhere. In fact, upon that light, Hermione wondered whether or not Thalia had been waiting for her._  
_


	2. Sexton Blake

**Chapter One: Sexton Blake**

Hermione woke, blissfully aware that she had actually managed a decent amount of sleep. It was only when she opened her eyes, did she realize the sun that crept through the cracks in the curtains around her bed was a bit to bright.

Immediately she shot out of bed, and froze. Where was Lavender's make up kit? Where was Parvati's relished pink, folded blanket that always sat at the end of her bed?

Than, like a ton of bricks, Hermione's expression slowly drained, and she looked on in horror and desperation. She was in the past. To far into the past. Shaking, she stumbled back to her bed - no, it wasn't her bed. It was no one's bed.

Her shoulders shook as she buried her face into the pillow and wept. She cried until there was nothing left. She wouldn't ever see Ron or Harry again, she wouldn't ever have to help Neville again.

Vaguely, Hermione realized that was her name. Slowly, attempting to strategically wipe to remaining tears from her cheeks without whoever was at the door seeing them, she turned slowly. The concerned face of Thalia looked over her, and her yes widened as she took in Hermione's reddened nose and bloodshot eyes. What's wrong?

Thalia hurried to the bed, enveloping her into a tight hug. Hermione sniffed and wiped her nose, deciding that crying wasn't getting her anywhere.

Just homesick, that's all. Thalia smiled knowingly, and pulled her to her feet.

You'd better get dressed and quick, we have class in ten minutes. You don't want to miss Transfiguration, Professor Dumbledore won't mind taking points from his own House. Thalia said, Hermione's eyes widened and she looked around desperately. What was there to wear? Here, you look about my size.

Thalia went to the other side of the room and dug into her trunk, pulling out plain black robes.

Hermione said gratefully, taking the material from Thalia who grinned broadly before heading towards the door.

I'll be in the common room.

Hermione looked down at the cloth in her hands before shrugging out of the night gown Poppy had provided her with. She looked forlornly at the empty space on the collar, where her Head Girl pin should have been.

_Oh well, you can't have the best of both lives._

Hermione headed down the stairs, searching for the only familiar face. Thalia was standing by the entrance.

C'mon, Arline, we're going to be late! Though Thalia sounded urgent, the smile on her face spoke volumes. She didn't particularly care.

Hermione smiled and hurried down the stairs, happy that she at least had one friend.

She entered what used - or will be - Professor McGonagall's classroom, where the entire class was already seated, and staring at her. Professor Dumbledore stood in the front of the room, a small smile in her direction.

Thalia hurried to the only empty desk in the middle, next to a dark haired Gryffindor. Hermione found there were no empty seats on the Gryffindor side, while the Slytherins occupied the other side - where an empty desk sat.

Inwardly groaning, Hermione wandered toward the desk as Thalia sent her an apologizing shrug.

She sat next to a rather handsome looking Slytherin, who was bent over a book, most likely last nights homework. He had dark hair that fell in his face and pale, healthy skin. From the side profile, he had beautiful blue eyes.

_Beautiful? Honestly, this is a Slytherin. There's nothing beautiful about them. Period._

Hermione snorted, and set down her books. The boy looked up, surprised. Hermione was slightly startled how intense the blue eyes that stared up at her were.

he said, looking down at her house crest, before offering her a neutral smile. I don't believe I've ever seen you before.

_How observant..._

I'm Arline Speck, Hermione introduced, nodding towards him. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more. Who're you?Ah, who am I? he said, a mischievous smile curving his lips. I am, Miss Speck, Tom Riddle.

Hermione's eyes widened so much she thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head. Then, she slowly started to lean away from him, and at his confused look, she fell right out of her chair and thumped to the floor, where the class sniggered at her.

Well, no girl has ever quite reacted like_ that_ before. Riddle smirked, but then leaned over and offered her his hand. She stared at it as if were some sort of disease.

_It's so _clean_. Smooth, clean, and strong. How can this - this person be Lord Voldemort?_ Hermione felt overwhelmed, and Tom's was looking at her oddly, as his hand was held out to her for even longer. _Take it, you twit! You must not make anyone suspicious. You don't know him. You aren't supposed to know him._

Reluctantly, Hermione gingerly took his hand, and as soon as she was on her feet, she practically ripped her hand from his. He gave her a suspicious glance, but then concentrated on Dumbledore, who finally started class when she was seated.

She sat on the far end of the chair.

It figured that the students in 1943 were behind. Hermione had learned all of this the week before, and it was relatively easy. Apparently, Tom Riddle was fairly respectable in Transfiguration, for his second attempt was perfect. The plain bar of soap was now a full course dinner.

So, Arline Speck, were did you come from? Tom asked idly, while poking at his mashed potatoes. Hermione looked up from her own meal, and sent him a mild glare.

I transferred. she replied tersely. He just looked at her, before a smile broke out on his face. Hermione felt like spitting on it.

Very clever, he said appreciatively. No, really, what school did you transfer from?A wizarding school. In lower Britain, a private school. Hermione replied, hoping that he'd just stop talking to her before she broke his nose. The urge was strong.

He laughed, and Hermione felt rather insulted. Not because he laughed, but because his laugh was human, genuine, and happy. Tom Riddle didn't deserve such a laugh. She scowled at him.

Fine, I understand. he said after a moment. You don't want me to know.How observant of you. she said under her breath.

I rather thought so, he said lightly, before turning his meal back into soap and standing. What's your next class.

Hermione opened her mouth to tell him to bugger off, when she realized she didn't know. When she didn't answer, Tom smiled.

Follow me, Slytherins have Potions with Gryffindors next, you're most likely in that class. And he turned to leave, not even looking to see if she was going to follow him.

_Stupid arrogant bastard._

Hermione gathered her books and cursed mentally at Thalia, who seemed to have disappeared into thin air. She followed Tom into the dungeons, where he led her to a different classroom than where Snape taught. Hermione briefly wondered why.

Here we are, Professor Peren is our resident Potions Master. Tom opened to door for her, and gallantly waved a hand to let her enter first. Hermione stared at him before she hurried past.

Hi, Arline. Thalia said, sitting down next to her at the lunch table. Hermione glared at her. Thanks for leaving me there with Riddle, Hermione said scathingly, Thalia looked mildly affronted.

Well, Riddle's a nice guy - for the most part. Thalia blinked when Hermione stared at her in disbelief.

Hermione wanted to scream it, but it out more as a whisper. How can you say that?What are you talking about? Thalia retorted. You don't even know him, you had one conversation with him.

Hermione opened her mouth to say that she _did_ know him, before she snapped it shut and stared at Thalia, who was looking at her disapprovingly.

_Oh my god...I don't know Riddle. At least, Tom Riddle, the one I know is Voldemort._

I - I - Hermione didn't know what to say.

Look, just stop judging people, all right? Thalia sat down and didn't talk to her for the rest of lunch. Hermione felt drained. She couldn't believe what she'd done.

Hey, Speck! The soft tenor spoke up behind her and Hermione turned, to find Riddle walking towards her, a small smile on his face.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione offered the best smile she could give him, knowing who he would become. 

Tom blinked. You can call me Arline. I don't particularly like my last name, thanks. she said quietly. Tom smiled.

All right, Arline, then you may call me Tom. Hermione nodded, and after a short silence she shifted her weight nervously.

So - er -Tom, what exactly did you want? Hermione winced, that had come out rather rude. But Tom didn't seem to notice, his eyes just sparkled.

I didn't think you'd been caught up on the what we're taking and what we've already learned, so I thought I might help. Hermione was so surprised her mouth dropped open. Tom glanced around, before giving her a confused look. What? Surprised that a Slytherin could be so nice? I hadn't thought the rumors had gotten so bad.I'm sorry, it's just - Tom waved a hand, effectively stopping Hermione. He gave her a timid smile before taking her hand and leading her toward the exit. The one that led to the lake. Where are we going?The lake.Why not? he answered, shooting her a devious look. Hermione was suddenly reminded of who exactly had a gentle hold on her hand. She found it hard not to pull away from him.

he said, motioning toward the base of a large apple tree that sat near to lakes edge. So, how do you like Hogwarts?I like it well enough, but I miss my friends. Hermione answered truthfully. Tom nodded.

I would've too when I first came here, he said, looking up into the tree's branches.

Hermione repeated, staring at him. He looked at her and nodded, a small frown on his face.

I didn't have any friends until I came here, he said, sighing. And even when I came here I had to prove myself. Being a muggle-born in Slytherin isn't easy.Being a muggle-born period isn't easy. There's always people who're prejudice. Hermione mumbled, pointedly not looking at him, opting to study the back of her hand instead.

Tom said, smiling. You must be muggle-born.Yes, and I'm proud of it. she said defiantly, lifting her chin and looking rather insulted, though nothing insulting was said.

I never said you weren't, She didn't fail to realize that he hadn't said the same thing.

Did you have a boyfriend? The question was quiet. Hermione found it completely out of character for the boy Hermione had imagined Tom Riddle to be. He was handsome, and the few times that she'd seen him in passing, there was always at least two girls following him around.

she said after a moment, also quiet. She didn't like to think about the mistake of Viktor Krum. How about you?Of course not, I find being tied down to one woman rather pointless. There's much to many fish in the sea. Tom replied indignantly. Hermione rolled her eyes, a typical boy.

You'll think differently when you get older, Hermione said, picking at her fingernail.

No I won't. This was said in such a forceful voice that it took Hermione by surprise and she stared at him in discomfort.

_Don't forget who this is. He has no emotions, he has no sympathy, and he certainly has no love._

Why not? Hermione swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. Tom looked up at her, his bright blue yes piercing her.

To have a girlfriend, to have someone who you love, is only a fantasy. Besides, it's vulnerability at it's worst. he sneered, his face contorted into hatred. Hermione was nervous now, this was who she thought Tom Riddle to be.

It's n-not fantasy. she said, attempting to glare at him. Who ever told you it was - was severely mistaken.

She stood up, and dusted off her clothes. She needed to get away from him. She felt sick, dirty, and disgusted. He looked up in bewilderment.

Where are you going? He stood also, Hermione turned to glare at him.

she replied before determinedly stalking away from him, and he continued to stand there, staring after her in curious astonishment, before his expression turned dark and serious.

Stupid, stupid Hermione. Hermione wanted to slap herself. Talking to Tom Riddle - Voldemort - as if he were a person. Disgusting. Hermione looked up, startled. Thalia smiled at her. Where'd you go?With who? she asked slyly, and Hermione wondered whether or not she actually knew.

No one, Thalia laughed.

Is that so? Hermione ground out, Thalia continued to smile at her.

If you say so, Arline. Hermione was tempted to say that she did say so, but refrained and walked past her and to the stairs the led to the Gryffindor Common Room. She wanted to forget the conversation with Riddle she had just had.

Hermione clenched her fists so tightly she was sure that the little crescent moons of her fingernails would forever be imprinted on the palm of her hand; a proof of her stupidity.

_How could you have been so _stupid? _Been here for three days, and already you've had a decent conversation with _Voldemort_, who just happened to have killed Cedric, Harry's parents, Seamus Finnigan, taken away Neville's parents, and so many other innocent people._

Hermione felt the tears well up. She hadn't meant to be civil. She really hadn't, but this Riddle, the seventeen year old, or perhaps eighteen, was actually tolerable. He was handsome as well, with beautiful blue eyes -

_No!_ _Not beautiful! Disgusting, that's what they are. Disgusting, repulsive, foul, and hideous._

Hermione knew that even as much as she desperately wanted to believe that he wasn't nice, smart, and had beautiful eyes - for a Slytherin, it was evident that she did. Only three days and she was attracted to a murderer, whose very name strikes fear in normal people's heart.

Hermione felt like cursing. Already, she'd let down Ron and Harry. She'd let down everyone on the side of good, for being nice to Riddle, for forgetting he was Voldemort.

_From this point on, no more niceties. You'll be as mean as he is in your day, only you'll be more dignified. And much less bloodshed._

Determined, Hermione acknowledged this challenge, and took it to heart.

Hey, Arline, did you finish last nights Transfiguration essay? Thalia asked in-between her bites of steak. Hermione nodded absently. Of course she had, did she never not? Good, because I didn't. Hermione said, looking at Thalia exasperated. Thalia shrugged and gave her a toothy grin.

You can't expect me to do homework when I have a life - more probably, a nice, loving relationship with the most wonderful man. Thalia sighed, and looked across the hall, well, to the table to their right. The Ravenclaws. Haywood Sherman, a tall skinny Ravenclaw with soft brown hair and eyes as black as Thalia's.

Boy, you mean. Thalia looked mildly insulted, and smacked Hermione's arm playfully.

You're just jealous. Thalia stated, a triumphant grin plastered to her face when Hermione looked at her indignantly.

Of _what_? Kissing in the hallways? Cooing at each other? Making eyes across the room? Hermione sneered. She wasn't jealous. She _wasn't_ jealous. It wasn't her fault that Thalia seemed to have the perfect relationship.

Thalia was surprised, her black eyes widened and her eyebrows rose. Are you _really_ jealous?

Hermione didn't answer, but merely glowered into her dinner, hoping that Thalia would just forget it.

You are! Thalia exclaimed, before she smiled and patted Hermione's back. I'm sure there's a perfect guy out there for you, Lin.

Hermione smiled at Thalia's pet name for her. She rarely ever called Hermione Lin, but when she did, Hermione knew she was being serious, or she was up to something.

Hermione humphed. Yeah, right, who would want me? She gestured to herself. Board like, bushy hair, pale complexion, no meat. Definitely no beauty here.

Thalia merely smiled at her. Who said beauty has anything to do with it?

With that, Thalia left Hermione to her meal.

Hermione hadn't talked to Tom in three months. She glanced over to the Slytherin table, Tom was talking to a fairly decent looking Slytherin girl, who was practically drooling over him, and he was humoring her, Hermione could tell. From the way he wouldn't actually look at her, but more talk at her while looking across the table at one of his friends. He had never done that to Hermione.

_Then again, he never really talked to me when he was with his friends._

Hermione sighed, it wasn't worth fantasizing about. She placed her fork on her plate and stood.

Though Tom had tried after the first two weeks of Hermione's silence and harsh glares to talk to her, Hermione hadn't budged. She didn't want anything to do with him, despite what the little voice in mind was saying it wasn't fair to Tom to treat him like Voldemort. But than her other mind would scream back:

_Tom Riddle _is_ Voldemort!_

And than the problem would be solved. There was no reason to befriend him, he would only hurt her, and she would only hurt her friends. If she ever saw them again.

Shuffling her feet against the flagstone, Hermione came to the stairs that would lead to the Gryffindor Tower, before deciding that she would visit the Astronomy Tower. She needed to look at the stars - the same stars Harry or Ron might be looking at as well.

Hermione closed her eyes against the cool night air. She had been up in the Astronomy Tower for hours it seemed. The stars were bright and the night was cool, the full moon illuminating the grounds in a harsh shroud of pale light. The light made everything, especially the lake, seem surreal.

Hermione smiled. Here, she felt at home. Here, she felt safe and normal.

A creak of wood and a soft rustle of clothing made Hermione freeze. After a moment, there was no sound except for the crickets and the frequent frog. Hermione relaxed, and snuggled deeper into the thin robes she'd worn for school. Even though there was goose flesh covering her arms and legs, she refused to leave. She didn't want the feeling of normalcy to go.

Than something - or someone - cleared their throat, and Hermione whirled around. Tom Riddle's face was contorted in the shadow of the moonlight, but his eyes seemed to glow from it. He looked a little confused, but determined.

Arline, I want to know. he demanded, his voice strong. Hermione straightened herself from the chair she sat in, and turned to fully face him.

Know what, Riddle? she hissed. Tom narrowed his eyes.

That, exactly. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

What are you talking about? Hermione demanded, pulling her robes tighter around herself.

Why you must act as if I've hurt you in any way, why you act as if I were poison itself. His voice rose as he went on, and Hermione could see his fists clenched, his wand in one hand. She felt slightly afraid.

_He would have cursed you while you were unaware, if he was going to._

Hermione didn't truly believe that voice inside her head. But this Tom Riddle wasn't Voldemort, he didn't go about killing people after they see his face. In fact, as far as Hermione was concerned, the only person killed thus far was Myrtle.  
_  
_I have my reasons, Riddle, now leave me alone. she snapped, turning around. Tom let out a harsh laugh. You heard me, Hermione snarled. Tom was silent behind her, and she was hoping that he used his prowess to escape unheard, but of course, her hopes were dashed.

You still haven't answered my questions, Speck. he said, his voice cold as stone. Hermione turned her head to glance at him, and found his face was shrouded still, though this time he looked purely evil. Surprised, Hermione blinked and the angry expression she'd carefully cultivated on her face evaporated. You wouldn't understand, Tom. she said quietly, at last. Tom looked mildly shocked at her sudden softness. I can't be your friend, and I can't be around you. I can't even talk to you.

Tom said nothing for a moment, before looking toward the sky.

You know, the stars tell the future. he said, his voice a quiet whisper. And, if you listen close enough, the wind will sing, and the stars will shine, and moon will smile. He looked back at her startled eyes, and gave her a benign smile. Maybe one day you'll realize you're wrong.

Than he left, the door gently clicked shut behind him. Hermione stared at the door for a long time, before getting up to slowly walk back to the Gryffindor Tower, uncaring if Ogg found her.

It's Saturday, Arline! Thalia jumped on her bed. Hermione groaned. Three hours of tireless sleep just wasn't enough. We're going to Hogsmeade! C'mon!

Hermione reached out to push Thalia off the bed, but couldn't find the giggling body to remove it.

Thalia laughed, and pulled the duvet off Hermione and onto the floor. You have to get up and get dressed, we leave in an hour. Let's go! Hermione growled. I don't want to go, give me my blanket back.

Hermione held out her hand expectantly, but only received a raspberry from Thalia, who ran off with the duvet trailing behind her. Her laughter echoed all the way to the common room.

Hermione growled and threw herself back onto the bed. She swore the world was out to get her. Not only did she have loads of homework to do, she had to think about Tom's words last night, and Thalia's incessant energy. She wondered what that girl took in the morning. It must be rather strong coffee.

Hermione eventually climbed out of bed when the cool morning air finally got to her, and she brushed her teeth, briefly combed her hair and dressed in regular black robes.

Tiredly, she walked down into the common room, where Thalia was sitting next to Nigel Steiner, who's white smile would probably win him Witch Weekly's Best Smile award. He was a good looking bloke, with his tan skin, and muscle from playing Quidditch.

He's fine, Hermione heard Thalia say. though I'd have to say he had a rough time of it last Quidditch match.I'll say! Nigel said, laughing. He nearly missed all the quaffles, and we were having a _bad_ game.

Thalia smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Hermione found she respected Thalia even more. When Thalia set her eyes on Hermione, they immediately brightened.

Oh, Arline's here, see you later Nigel. She waved good-bye to Nigel, who smiled at her, and winked at Hermione, who colored as she was pulled out of the Gryffindor Common Room.

He's such a jerk, Thalia said as the turned the corner, anger evident on her childlike features. Thinks he's king of the damned Quidditch team. _I'm_ better than he is, and I can't play worth beans.

Hermione shook her head, a light smile on her face. After a moment of silence, Thalia looked at Hermione as if she'd just realized something.

Say, where were you last night? she looked her Hermione suspiciously when Hermione's cheeks reddened.

Urm - nowhere important. Hermione replied, looking at the passing portraits. So, where's Haywood?Don't change the subject, Arline. You were with a _boy_, weren't you? A devious smile adorned Thalia's thin mouth, and her eyes sparkled with unreserved joy. Hermione colored even more, and Thalia let out a barking laugh. You were! I told you that a guy would come your way.

Hermione gave her a withering glare. It was nothing like that,Oh? Than what was it? Thalia teased. Did you have a cuppa? Hermione said forcefully, pushing open the doors to Hogwarts.

Hermione's voice was annoyed now, and Thalia's evil glint in her eye didn't help the situation.

A shag?Wh - _no_! Hermione stopped suddenly, glaring at Thalia, who mirth was poorly hidden. Just drop it, okay? I just had a talk with Riddle, if you really need to know. Thalia calmed at that, and her expression sobered. So are you guys friends again?We never were, Hermione said placidly. exactly how I wanted it to be.  
_  
_


	3. Laid Out in Lavender

**Chapter Two: Laid out in Lavender**

_  
_Hermione yawned into her butterbeer, nearly inhaling it through her nose. Thalia was off in some secluded booth with Haywood, leaving Hermione all alone. Minerva McGonagall sat at stool at the bar, chatting with a few friends.

It always surprised Hermione whenever she saw Minerva. She was rather pretty, with raven colored hair and caramel eyes, her features weren't so sharp. They were smooth and she smiled and laughed and joked with her friends. Though, in the classroom, Hermione found that Minerva was rather like herself as her hand always in the air.

Sighing, Hermione put the mug of butterbeer down on the scratched and worn round table. Many of the students were packed into the Three Broomsticks, but Hermione had yet to find Tom Riddle anywhere. Not that she wanted to confront him, but she couldn't help but look for him.

_Why? You spent so long avoiding him, and now you want to seek him out?_

No. Hermione shook her head, and decided that it just wasn't worth it. She was surprised when a black head came into view and sat at her table. Her heart started pounding, but when the face looked up, it wasn't Riddle.

Instead, it was a thin faced Ravenclaw named Pancras Panquette. From what Hermione had seen of him in her classes, he was always smiling, and he rarely seemed to become upset or otherwise hindered. Hermione found that disturbing.

he said, his drawl nearly made Hermione laugh. It was as if he were doing a poor impersonation of Draco Malfoy. How're you....um...Arline Speck, Hermione supplied, smiling. Of course he wouldn't know her. She had a tendency to melt into the background.

Ah, yes, Arline. Panras sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the table, something Hermione found extremely irritating. I thought you might want some company, sitting here all by yourself and all.I was waiting for a friend - Hermione was about to say who's in the washroom' but was interrupted by a smooth, familiar tenor voice.

Sorry I'm late, Arline. Tom Riddle stared at Pancras, who blinked and looked from Arline to Tom, than to the Slytherin badge and the Gryffindor badge. Hermione couldn't bring herself to smile gratefully at Tom.

Pancras said, before a noticeably forced smile formed on his lips. Seems as though you no longer need company, Arline Speck. I'll see you some other time.

And he was gone. Riddle took his place, searching her eyes as he leaned across the table, his hands laced together.

he said, nodding toward her. Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat.

_Don't give in. Don't give in. Don't...oh hell._

she answered, a smile gracing her lips. At her smile, Tom seemed to brighten considerable, and his shoulders relaxed.

I wasn't sure whether or not I was still scum. he said, smirking. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

_You always were._

Well, I told you I have my reasons, but I decided my being rude to you wasn't necessary. she said, the coldness was gone from her voice, but it was very business like and Tom bristled at it.

So it's like that, is it? he muttered, looking at his hands. Hermione watched him, wondering whether or not he truly understood. Considering your reasons seem to involve myself, I believe I have a right to know them.They're personal, Hermione replied, narrowing her eyes. She didn't like the way this was going.

Ah, yes, but they're affecting _me_. Tom said, leaning even closer to her until she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

How so? How could I _ever_ affect you? she snapped, secretly hoping that he would answer the question. Though the painful, hope-filled feeling inside her chest seemed to be wanting a particular answer.

_Do I have a crush on Tom Riddle?_

Hermione felt momentarily baffled, before Tom spoke again.

To know such a beautiful creature absolutely despises me, Tom whispered. It burns me inside to not know why, or how I can fix it.

Hermione shuddered. The sincerity in his voice was so pure, Hermione felt as if she were on air. Beautiful. He'd called her beautiful.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but found she couldn't. There was nothing to say. Or, at least nothing intelligent she could find.

His piercing blue eyes bore into hers until she could feel the cold sweat drip down her back, and her hands tremble. It was such an intense feeling, to be looked at as such. Hermione felt addicted.

Then he kissed her. Gently. Slowly. Carefully. Timidly.

Hermione briefly wondered if he was scared, and the hesitant feel of his lips made her mentally grin. He was afraid. He was afraid of her rejection. So she kissed him back.

She pulled away a moment later, to stare at him in bewilderment. She'd just kissed Tom Riddle.

He himself looked rather surprised. His breath was shallow, and he was leaning over the top of the table. He straightened himself out and sat himself back into his chair. Clearing his throat. Hermione noticed with glee that his cheeks were red.

she asked, raising an eyebrow. She desperately wanted to kiss him again. He glared at her, but didn't answer. With that, she frowned and stood up, pushing her chair back. I should have known.

And with that, she left a stunned Tom Riddle sitting by himself at a table in The Three Broomsticks.

Hermione found she didn't know where to go. Tom's gentle kiss, the light feeling of his lips against hers, just wouldn't go away. A vivid memory pasted right in front of her eyes. She stopped against a lamp post and sighed, burying her face into her hands.

_What have I done?_

Hermione felt the first hot tear slid down her cheek, and soon enough they all fell. Months of bottled emotion leaked out. Her hatred for herself, for Voldemort. Her dismay at finding she was attracted to him.

Moments later, a light hand touched her shoulder, and Hermione leapt form it as if she'd been burnt. Glancing up, she looked into the concerned eyes of Tom Riddle.

I - he muttered, before visibly swallowing. I didn't mean to make you cry, Arline.

Hermione was stunned. Her entire body froze up and she stared a him in utter disbelief. His eyes widened.

Was I not supposed to say that? he questioned, the uncertainty in his voice evident. Should I leave?

Hermione was tempted to tell him to do just that, but she could bring herself to do so.

she whispered and buried herself in his surprised arms, where after a moment, she felt the strong embrace and the kiss on the top of her head.

This was what she'd always wanted. The feeling of being wanted, of being needed. The feeling of importance. The fact that she felt safe with Tom did nothing to quell the building feelings she had for him.

They stood there for minutes before Hermione slowly backed away from him, wiping her eyes.

I'm sorry, Tom. Hermione apologized, rubbing her hands together nervously.

For what? she looked up in surprise.

For treating you like a prat. For _being_ a prat. Hermione's voice quivered, wondering whether or not he really was that daft.

Don't worry about it, Arline. It happens every day. The truth in that statement squeezed her heart.

Oh, Tom. she breathed, wrapping her arms around him. This time, the embrace was returned strong.

She had to think of a way home. Though she was loathe to admit it, she really needed to go to her own time. She didn't belong here, enveloped in lies and lies and more lies.

_It doesn't help that I fell in love with the worst person ever._

Sighing, Hermione shut the book she was attempting to read. The smell of the library always calmed her, and she needed to be calmed desperately. Not only could she not think of a way home, but the only thing she _could_ think about was Tom. His glittering blue eyes, soft smile. Even the deviousness of his features she missed, even though she'd seen him only yesterday.

After they went back to Hogwarts, she didn't talk to him for the rest of the day. She didn't see him the next either.

Arline, are you always in the library? Thalia asked as she walked in, Haywood in tow.

Hello Haywood, Hermione greeted, smiling at Thalia. And no, I'm not always in the library thank you. Are you always in the Astronomy Tower?

Thalia colored, and cleared her throat.

Wonderful day, isn't it? Sse declared, looking toward the high windows. Hermione laughed and Haywood seemed unduly red. Thalia smiled and scratched the back of her head, a sheepish grin on her face. So what are you doing? Hermione replied tiredly. Thalia rolled her eye as Haywood leaned forward the red the title of the book.

I already finished, he said after a moment, and looked confused when Hermione shot him a glare. What are you guys doing anyway, Thalia, I thought you loathed doing your homework. Hermione questioned, folding her parchment paper that only had a few sentences on it, and put it into her book bag.

I do, but that doesn't mean that there isn't any good reading in the library. Thalia responded, before wandering off into the novella section, where Hermione rarely visited. Haywood followed her dutifully.

Hermione found she missed Tom. In fact, she found that her other life, with Harry and Ron, seemed dull compared to the feeling Tom gave her.

I thought I'd find you here, Tom announced as he glided through the door, the grin that appeared in Hermione's face was bright. Care for a walk?

He held out his hand and Hermione gratefully took it - and didn't let go, twining her fingers with his. He looked at her in surprised, before tightening his grip and leading her out of the library and to the shore by the lake, where he sat her down.

She cuddled up next to him.

Who are you really, Arline? Hermione looked up at him in surprise. He couldn't possibly know...

What do you mean?You have so many secrets, I don't really know who you are. Hermione sobered, and leaned against her shoulder.

I could say the same thing for you, Tom.Fair enough, he whispered, a hand reached out to stroke her hair, eventually her cheek, and then her chin, tilting it up to receive a kiss.

Hermione felt exhilarated, pushing against him harder. She ran her hands over his shoulder, pulling him against her. She gasped when she found herself lying on her back, Tom grinning slyly above her, before he kissed her hungrily.

Years later, Hermione found that her decision not to return to her time period was the best she'd ever made.

She grew up with Tom, became his wife, bore his children. She was his lover, his friend, his confidant.

Eventually, he'd told her about the Chamber of Secrets, and she quietly convinced him to leave it alone.

Hermione looked at the fine wrinkles that had appeared on her face years ago, and than she looked at the bored looking man to her right. Today was the day she'd looked forward to since her decision.

She walked confidently into Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry. The world free of Voldemort's reign, she wondered briefly if Harry and Ron were even friends.

What greeted her made her blink in surprise, nearly having her husband collide with her as she stopped abruptly.

The Hall was filled with students. Headmaster Dumbledore looked up from his dinner, and upon seeing her, grinned, a bright twinkle in his eye.

A shout form her right, and a tall boy with dark hair and blue eyes ran up to her, enveloping her in a hug.

Hermione caught a glimpse of Harry, who was looking at her inquisitively. He was surrounded by friends. A younger girl who looked remarkably like him was sitting next to him, also looking at her with the same green eyes.

Suddenly, Hermione felt her heart well up. She was glad she'd decided to marry Tom Riddle. The hurt of knowing she'd been erased from Harry and Ron's mind seemed overwhelming, but seeing the bright, healthy eyes of Harry Potter, the unmarred forehead, and Hermione felt it was worth it.

**A/N: **Now that I look back at this, it went rather quickly, didn't it? I may write more, little snippets of things that happened in-between the times Hermione decided she was going to stay and her arrival at Hogwarts as an old woman.

This basically wrote itself, and I find it's rather cliché and Thalia is a little bit of a MS. I also didn't really engage the story with the characters, but I do have to say I wrote all of this at once. It was an idea that just flew into my head, and I decided I might as well post it instead of leaving it to rot on my hard drive. Hopefully someone enjoyed this, the first chapter and the prelude were pretty good, but I think you can tell I was getting pretty desperate for it to end by the second chapter.

Thanks for reading! And be sure to review._  
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